coffee stains ; larry stylinson

chapter seventeen

"so how did it go?" harry asks louis the next day. 

"well," louis smiles. "it went well."

"was your imperious motive that had you fleeing here fulfilled?"

louis was a bit more somber now. "well, yes. my dad moved back in with my twin sisters so they're all together now."

"and how does that make you feel?" harry's eyes were looking into his with a sort of depth that made tingles go down louis' spine. 

"it's a sort of...cold comfort, i guess," louis says. "like, i'm happy he's finally back but it still hurts that i can't go back."

harry nods. "fair enough."

"since we're talking about feelings now," louis says. "your nightmares. what's the deal with that?"

harry looks like he's going to refuse to speak, but then something shifts behind his eyes and he givens a moment later. 

"my sister," he says finally. "she died in my arms, and my mother just stood and watched."

his voice was flat, but louis could see the tension in his muscles. louis didn't know what to say. 

"i'm sorry," he says finally, genuinely meaning it. "is that why you came here?"

harry looked surprised, as if the thought had never occurred to him before. "i suppose not. it was my mother who sent me here."

"any particular reason?"

harry hesitated. "i don't know. she just sent me packing with a shit ton of money and a home here in london."

"is that why you are so very cold?"

"it did not occur to me," harry said stonily, "that i seemed cold to you."

louis snorted. "that's a really funny joke, styles."

harry hesitated for a moment. "do i still do? seem cold, i mean."

louis considered this. harry had changed. he was a lot more...vocal and a tad bit more expressive. "not as much, no. not anymore."

"it's because of you," harry says, looking at him steadily. 

louis' heart quite literally stopped. "what-"

harry took a deep breath, as if preparing himself. "louis, for the past three years, i have locked much of myself away, thinking that to feel was to destroy oneself. but i've seen you. i see the way you love eleanor and zayn and liam and the way you speak of your family, that love that is present in your voice even though there is pain. and...it's not the end of the world. you showed me kindness, chose to talk and interact with me when i am in no way worthy of it. you show so much of yourself to others and are so unafraid to show it...well, it made me realize that this façade around myself is nothing but a way to cause pain to myself and others. you've taught me that loving is not destroying, and that it makes us stronger. you distanced yourself away from your family, but you still love them and love your friends and that makes you strong."

louis was too stunned to speak. "harry- i don't know what to say. that was an incredibly beautiful thing to say. and...i'm glad i could help you come to that realization. i didn't realize i've left that kind of influence."

he smiles at harry, and louis thought he might actually burst into tears, because harry smiled back. and it was none of those terrible smiles he'd seen harry smile that were cold and haunting. this was a pure, real smile, like sun breaking over the horizon. and he had fucking dimples, and louis thought he might actually die in those dimples. his smile was sunshine, warm, home, bunnies. and so incredibly beautiful louis' heart was actually going to break. 

"you-" louis whispers, emotion choking his voice. "you're smiling."

"you keep me human, lou," harry says softly, that dazzling smile still on his face. "you keep me human."

louis grabs harry's hand and laces his own fingers with harry's. "i'd like to be friends, harry. actual friends. not just...acquaintances. or, well, annoyances."

harry squeezes louis' fingers. "i'd like that."

that evening, louis got to see harry's apartment for the first time. he lived on the fifth floor and his apartment was modern and stylish, but bare. a single armchair and a table sat in the living room. the walls adorned no wallpaper or paintings etc. one wall of the living room was just simply windows, providing an excellent view of the skyline. there was a small kitchenette, the only signs someone used it were the dirty plates in the sink and the frypan that was still on the stove.

"you live like a monk," louis comments. 

harry rolls his eyes. "decoration has been the least of my concerns when i came here." 

louis walks into harry's room, and was surprised to actually find life in there. his bed was unmade, a pile of laundry on one corner of his room and a massive pile of books in another corner. on his desk, were many journals, a laptop, a nightlamp, and a small framed picture of a younger version of harry smiling next to another girl with the same smile as him. harry's sister.

"what was her name?" louis asks, looking at the picture. 

"gemma. i loved her with everything that was within me." but there was not much sadness in his voice, louis realized, but a wistful sort of adoration.

propped against the wall, was a guitar. 

"oh my god, a guitar!" louis squeals and makes his way towards it. "do you play?"

"yeah." harry rubs the back of his neck. "listen, i don't really know how to do how this whole friends thing." 

louis smiles. "well luckily i do." he grabs the guitar, holding it out to harry and settling on his bed. "teach me how to play."

and he did. they spent hours - louis not giving up even when his fingers were bloody and sore, despite harry's urges to take a break - and by the end of it, louis could play the d-chord flawlessly.

the last of the sun's rays were slanting into harry's room, falling on his face as he carefully watches louis play and if he had to spill coffee on a random boy, for this to happen, it had been so so worth it. 

a/n: i love this chapter snwkjd

i smell a lot of dirty comments about the d-chord thing incoming- 

anyways lol this book is kicking my ass rn 

hopefully we'll get some action after this 

call me a magnet the way i b pulling these bitches 💯(i've never held hands romantically)

all the love, niya xx